


Almost

by valdomarx (cptxrogers)



Series: Octoberfest fics [15]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Almost Kiss, Humor, M/M, geralt is a troll frankly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27087046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cptxrogers/pseuds/valdomarx
Summary: An almost kiss on a quiet night camping in the forest.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Octoberfest fics [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956754
Comments: 11
Kudos: 135





	Almost

**Author's Note:**

> Octoberfest romcom tropes day 15: near miss kiss

Jaskier picks at the same few notes over and over, trying to lay out the music in his head while he watches the flames of their campfire.

“You’ve been playing those three notes for thirty minutes,” Geralt grunts.

He keeps plucking away at his lute. “Have I? Well, musical genius takes time.”

Geralt _hmmms_. Jaskier plays a little louder, just to annoy him.

Geralt looks up. His eyes narrow.

Jaskier stares right back at him and keeps playing.

In barely a breath, Geralt has rounded the fire and is practically on top of him. He’s all worn leather and earthy richness and a tiny hit of the soap Jaskier uses to wash his hair. The combination is his favourite scent in the world, and he’s bathed in it as Geralt kneels before him, close enough to touch.

Geralt reaches out to cradle Jaskier‘s hand where he picks at the lute. Jaskier falters, the heat from Geralt’s hand seeping into his skin, looking down at their joined hands. They look beautiful together.

“Jaskier?” 

Geralt carefully, tenderly puts two fingers under his chin and tilts his face up. 

The world suddenly seems very still, every sense zoomed in on the feel of Geralt’s fingers on his skin, the rush of blood in his ears.

His breath stops when Geralt leans in closer, scant inches between their faces. He can see every one of Geralt’s pale eyelashes, fluttering over deep amber eyes. 

“Yes, Geralt?”

Geralt’s eyes crinkle, soft and warm. 

He punches him in the shoulder. “Shut the fuck up.”

Jaskier sighs. "Yes, Geralt.”


End file.
